written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Monday 30 September 2013

Pretty Lights

This week's theme is Illuminations. I looked into my heart; gazed at the tower burning; watched a firefly die.

I have stood on the verge of the abyss that is my mind. The vast chasm that leads to the innermost workings of what it means to be me. I asked the librarian to offer me something to read regarding this theme. She just laughed at me and told me to feel.

I wrote from the immediate mind.

Whatever that means? 


Pretty Lights

I walk
Above me hangs the forgotten dreams of a billion stars
Night hugs the air and cars drive past
Wonderment in the eyes of infant passengers
A spectrum of waste
Exploding in a million ideas
I like the blue sparkles

I see
Beneath me water protects the stone from prying eyes
Clouds released their wet prisoners with audible signs
Showing us the door to another place
Parallel universe.
The damp reflects
I like the mirror world

I hear
Beside me laughter pours from the excited vessels
Young canvases for colour to be experimental
Dancing plastic shines too bright
This unfeeling entertainer
Automaton doing what it's told
I like the playing bears.

I taste
In front of me sugar screams as toothless crones throw them in oil boiling
Breaded rings crying out to be someone else’s precious thing
Potatoes wrapped in fat soaked paper
Ungrateful hands grab
Consume for little energy
I like the hot dogs

I smell
Behind me souls of the faceless swam attracted by the light
Sweat of parents desperate to see through their past child's sight
Hope of warm winters from the money takers
Corruption of the voted managers
Desperation of the broken
I like the pretty lights